


In Which Cas Hates Cheap Coffee and Dean is Confused by Scent

by Soupernabturel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Agender Castiel, Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, And Wear Frilly Pink Aprons, Bunker Fluff, Cas Likes to Call Things Abominations, Castiel Hates Mornings, Cuddling and Snuggling, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Fallen Angel Castiel, Ficlet, Fluff, Gender Issues, Grumpy Castiel, Human Castiel, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Misunderstandings, One Shot, Scenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4882141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soupernabturel/pseuds/Soupernabturel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Which is fine with Dean (”dammit it Sammy I said it’s fine”). Dean’s dated Beta’s before, gone home with his fair share of Beta women, it’s just that Cas doesn’t smell like anything at all, just as he did as an Angel, no Omega, no Beta-hell, he doesn’t even smell like a friggen Alpha-</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Cas Hates Cheap Coffee and Dean is Confused by Scent

In the first week of Cas being human, Dean learns a lot about him.

 

Apparently, Cas is not a morning person, which really Dean should have seen coming. The only way to get Cas out of bed is with the smell of roast coffee, the expensive kind, which Dean justifies buying because honestly he’d tried to get Cas up with the normal peculated kind from a tin and Cas had turned up his nose at the sight of it. Like a snooty kid he’d buried his face back into his pillow and asked Dean to remove that ‘ _abomination’_ from his sight.

 

Socks are another  _abomination_  which Cas insists on going without whenever possible. He walks the Bunker bare footed, toes sinking into the carpeted floors, sliding against the cool wooden planks of the library.

 

Often when in the shooting range Dean can hear his entrance before seeing him. The  _plat plat plat_ of Cas’  bare feet against concrete echoes throughout the room, the smell of the food he’d bring down with him, (determined to provide for both his boys whether that be by ushering Sam to bed when he’s up late researching or asking Dean how he’s feeling with a soft tone and with even softer touches), draws Dean from his gun like he’s a friggen Looney Tune, floating on the air nose to the wind.

  
The food's scent and the sound of Cas' footfalls are the only signs of Cas approaching, no matter how hard Dean tries he can’t smell  _Cas_ beneath it all.

 

Yeah, that’s also something Dean’s learnt about him.

 

Dean has taken to Cas the same way Cas has taken to sleeping late, bubble baths, drinking coffee and stealing Dean’s clothes; with a quiet and very undiscussed acceptance that makes Dean a little off centred, a little giddy and childlike.

 

There really, is only one thing missing.

 

oOo

 

Mornings in the Bunker are lazy, and Dean would like to say it’s Cas’  fault but really, after the Darkness and the successful closing of Hell (once and for all), cases on the world threatening front have fallen to an all time low.

 

A part of Dean will never get used to having Cas just  _around_. To be able to touch him and see him and talk to him everyday. His taste of domesticity with Lisa had been one thing, but with Cas everything’s  _different_.

 

There’s a lack of omega scent for one thing, or any scent at all that could indicate a second gender designation for the fallen ex-angel.

 

It something they don’t talk about. Not because of outward avoidance but just because Cas simply doesn’t seem to notice.

 

Which is fine with Dean (”dammit it Sammy I said it’s fine”). Dean’s dated Beta’s before, gone home with his fair share of Beta women, it’s just that Cas doesn’t smell like anything at all, just as he did as an Angel, no Omega, no Beta-hell, he doesn’t even smell like a friggen  _Alpha_ -

 

Cas is human, fully human, so he should smell of at least  _something_. Even Jimmy had a scent (Beta). Dean remembers it faintly when Cas had gone off the reservation that one time which seems like a whole era ago.

 

Dean knows that whatever slow steady thing he’s working on with Cas, it’s good. Whatever it is it feels  _natural_  despite the fact that their lives have always been anything but. Truth is though Dean always thought that if he were to settle down, actually find ‘the one’, his  _mate_ , that more likely than not that person would be omega.

 

But this is good, Dean tells himself, he and Cas are stretched out on the couch (as they do most nights now) watching Discovery Channel or some show with animals that makes Cas pout with its inaccuracies, and sends him on a tangent talking about the correct correlation between fungi and plant roots.  Cas’ head is on Dean’s shoulder and it’s almost perfect,  _almost_ and maybe now is the right time to kiss the ex-angel but-

 

How can Dean tell for sure that Cas feels the same without Cas’ scent? How can he be certain?

 

Cas looks across at him in the light of the TV, eyes lidded and sleepy and Dean’s gaze slips right to him too, a smile, unwittingly, hitches his lips.

 

Something warm and heavy, more than lust, more than affection, rises in Dean’s gut and settles low in his chest. He sniffs the air on instinct and-

 

Nothing.

 

Dean swallows and turns back to the tv. He only looks away when Cas’ head rests on his shoulder and the ex-angel shuffles toward him, a long line of heat against Dean’s side.

 

Dean tells himself that this can be enough because it is. It’s not Cas’ scent he fell in love with and it’s not because Cas has saved him or saved Sam too many times to count. Dean loves him because he’s  _Cas_ , and they’re both fuck up’s of epic proportions and friends.

 

And that’s enough for him. Truly.

 

Dean focuses on the tv until his eyes become weighted.

 

  
oOo

 

Dean admits to himself that he’s a lying coward on a Wednesday. He kisses Cas in the next moment while the other man stands by the stove, a silly baby pink 50’s apron tied about his waist (frills and all). His bare feet tap an unheard rhythm into the lino as he wears a pair of Dean’s sweats riding low on his waist.

 

He’s cooking breakfast though it’s one in the afternoon and there’s flour everywhere; in his hair, on his clothes and face but he grins at Dean over his shoulder and says that theres an ‘art’ to making pictures with the pancake batter, and it’s all so damn  _endearing_  that Dean can’t help himself from jolting forward and capturing Cas’ rosy lips with his own.

 

Cas turns from his pan, turning off the stove with one fumbling hand as the other cups Dean’s stubble rough cheek like he’s precious,  _worthy_.

 

The air thickens, playful energy transforming into something more as the mere inches between their bodies become enclosed. It’s a soft, experimental, tender kiss, one to test the waters but when Cas opens his mouth breathing warmth into him, Dean feels as though a part of him is drowning.

 

Dean tilts his face, his tongue tracing a line of wet heat along Cas lips and Cas makes a sound, a tiny gasp that sends butterflies bursting through Dean.

 

Dean laughs into the kiss, against Cas’ mouth, and leans into the vee of his legs. He is kissing Cas and Cas is kissing him back, the world's not ending (yet) and there's pancakes set in a stack by the stove growing cool, but Dean’s purring into Castiel’s mouth as he works his hands in the other man's hair.

 

Reluctantly, after a time, Dean pulls away and Castiel sighs with the absence, his hands falling to Dean’s waist, keeping him close but giving him space.

 

This thing between them is so crazy it’s so…so…

 

_Apple pie._

 

Dean turns up his nose and takes a long inhale; apple pie, peaches and cream, and the scent of a warm spring day. A perfume of these scents grows heavy in the air.

 

Dean knows he’s frozen his mouth left open. When Cas taps two fingers to Dean’s lower lip and smiles a peculiar smile Dean’s snorts, returning back to earth though his mind is a little hazy.

 

Dean closes his eyes and inhales deeply.

 

“Dean?” Cas asks, voice gentle and morning rough. The perfect combination of Cas’ voice and scent sends heat prickling all over.

 

“Cas,” Dean opens his eyes to look across into a pair that is beautifully blue. “Your scent. Are you I think," he takes another deep whiff, "Are you  _Omega?_.”

 

“Oh,” Cas says as though hearing something particularly unremarkable. “No, I'm just me.”  
  
  
"You?"

 

"Me. I...gender has never played a role in my life, I doubt that that would change now that I am fully human."

 

Okay, so not Omega, not Alpha not anything just Cas. Cas smelt of Cas and that-

 

That was better. That was _everything_.

 

“Are you-are you okay, I mean-”   _with this? Me?_

 

“Of course Dean,” Cas’ answering smile is gentle, his scent even softer, curling around Dean like a warm blanket. It's faint, boy is it faint, but it's the best damn thing he’s ever smelt, so much so that he can’t believe  he’s been able to survive this long without it.  “I’m never unhappy when I’m with you.”

 

Dean’s spent his entire life on the edge of something and it’s there with Cas on a normal Wednesday afternoon that Dean finally closes his eyes and presses his smile to Cas’, falling forward.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](soupernabturel.tumblr.com)


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